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 Posted: Mon Jun 20, 2011 2:24 pm
Snuff that Muffin DSW and Kato: approved Wolf: a little more description and use in the sample strike 1 ALSO! Everyone look at the first post and look at the new application rule. It'll save you some timeYou sure there's a spot? Cause may has one of them.
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Posted: Mon Jun 20, 2011 2:25 pm
according to everyone, may is the only one
meaning there is 1/2...
you make 2/2, it's closed
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klgirebdnchajdelfianemdke
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Posted: Mon Jun 20, 2011 5:24 pm
Rpc Name: Hanzo Hasashi
Nation: Rouge(Anima has to)
Rank: Trainee
Bloodline applied for: Anima
What you know about the bloodline: They can reach the max in strength and speed. They can only use their Exodus weapon. They have 20% less energy. They can only have one summon, they Exodus Weapon. They can't be Mages, Biochemists, Mechanists, Necromancers, or Clerics. If the core of the Exodus weapon gets broke, they die.
Rp Sample:
Hanzo was tracking an assassin. The assassin had shot him with a pistol, and the gunshot hurt like hell. He was going to make him pay. Once Hanzo caught up to the Assassin, he was somewhat tired. The assassin had a silencer on his pistol and shot at Hanzo three more times. Hanzo was hit with each shot, but he still lived. The assassin jumped down and tried to kill Hanzo with a katana, he failed. Right before Hanzo was hit by the blade, he had summoned his Exodus weapon and blocked it. He jumped behind the assassin and stabbed the man in the back. He felt faster by one rank. He then started to cut the man into pieces.
(May gave his position up.)
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Posted: Tue Jun 21, 2011 5:27 pm
come on...give a better sample
strike 1
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klgirebdnchajdelfianemdke
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Posted: Tue Jun 21, 2011 6:06 pm
Arashikage2 Rpc Name: Hanzo Hasashi Nation: Rouge(Anima has to) Rank: Trainee Bloodline applied for: Anima What you know about the bloodline: They can reach the max in strength and speed. They can only use their Exodus weapon. They have 20% less energy. They can only have one summon, they Exodus Weapon. They can't be Mages, Biochemists, Mechanists, Necromancers, or Clerics. If the core of the Exodus weapon gets broke, they die. Rp Sample: Hanzo was tracking an Expert Assassin. They had already had one confrontation, and that leg to Hanzo getting shot. His left shoulder felt like it was on fire from the bullet wound. Oh, how he was going to make that man pay. He caught up to the assassin in a tavern, but didn’t realize it until after he heard the gunshot. Hanzo barely dodged the bullet. He felt the wind from it on his cheek. ”s**t that was close.” He ran towards the wall and then ran across it as bullets were shot towards him. All during this he was grinning. As he ran across the walls, he put out the lights, putting the room in complete darkness. He then melded with the shadows. The assassin was scared now. He was going up against an Adept ninja, and an Anima at that. “Are you afraid?” Hanzo’s voice came from right behind the assassin. When the assassin turned around, he wasn’t there. The assassin shot fireballs all around the room, lighting it up. Hanzo still couldn’t be seen. “You will die now.” Hanzo got cocky and jumped at the man. The assassin sidestepped it and grabbed him. ”No you will die here.” He took out his pistol and put it up to Hanzo’s head. “That is where you are wrong.” Hanzo summoned his Exodus weapon. He stabbed the man in the heart. The man died, but right before he did he shot Hanzo’s Exodus. One of the bullets hit the core of the weapon. Hanzo burst up in flames, dying. The last thing he saw was the man's memory of Hanzo killing his brother. (Skills used: Wall Run Shadow Meld Soul Eater Weakness shown: His core broke. He died Strengths shown: He absorbed the man's memory) (May gave his position up.) Better
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Posted: Tue Jun 21, 2011 6:37 pm
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Posted: Sat Jul 02, 2011 1:07 pm
Rpc Name: Kronos
Nation: Rogue
Rank: Trainee
Bloodline applied for: Dreadnought
What you know about the bloodline: dreadnoughts main strength is their carapace. Not only does it block most attacks up to C rank, but it can transform into spikes and spears and such. It also takes shape after the person's element. The main weakness to the carapace is the fact that you have to shed it every so often or it will begin to chip off and break. On top of that, it slows you down quite a bit.
Rp Sample: Kronos looked around the barren wasteland for quite some time. There had been a few caravans of gold passing through here. One caravan in particular had caught his interest however. That particular caravan was filled with gold and diamonds. Kronos had been following it for quite some time, and decided it was time to strike now. He dashed out of hiding and activated his carapace. The body armor formed around him, giving him a dark and demonic appearance. Suddenly, two men rushed him with scimitars. He looked at them both, and thrust his arms forward. Two spears erupted from his arms and struck both men in the chest, going clean through their backs. Kronos reverted the spears into his normal arms, and looked forward. One man had a bow now and was knocking an arrow. Kronos saw this and attempted to move out of the way. He had forgotten how incredibly slow he was in his carapace however, and was struck in the shoulder by the arrow. The arrow didn't penetrate the carapace however, and simply skidded off the shoulder. Kronos smiled, and thrust his arms forward and into the ground. Suddenly, a spike shot from the ground and impaled the man through his forehead, completely taking his head off. Kronos looked around and saw nothing else to fight. He then went to the caravan and began taking all of the gold and silver he could carry. After that, he left, on his way to the nearest big city where he could sell all of his loot.
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Posted: Sat Jul 02, 2011 2:03 pm
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Posted: Sun Jul 03, 2011 7:16 am
Rpc Name: Angela Caleo
Nation: Undecided... any suggestions?
Rank: Trainee (of course. ^_^")
Bloodline applied for: Banshee
What you know about the bloodline: Uh... everything! I made it, and I hope more people sign-up for it. The last time I made it at another guild, no one signed up for it. D:
Rp Sample
Gripping her scythe with both hands, Angela gets into a fighting position to proceed with her mission. She had finally encountered the beast she was to fight and defeat in order to rank up. This beast was a frog monster, and was going to be tough to fight. Its main power source comes from the rays of the sun, and she was in the middle of a desert. Angela suddenly felt weak because of the rays of the sun. Now, it makes it a bit harder to see for her because she was trying to shroud herself and cover from the bright rays. When she saw the giant frog suddenly shoot out beams of light, she dodged the attacks the best she could. She was extreamly quick on her feet, making it easier to dodge attacks, but the trouble was attacking physically.
Making her move on the frog now, she dashed toward it, letting out an ear-wrenching scream, it would be able to harm the frog's sense of hearing for a bit. This would make it harder for the frog to hear her movements. Once she did that, she jumped backwards, away from the frog. The poor Banshee was starting to sweat from the intense heat of the desert, but she couldn't stop now. The frog attacked again, the same beams of light aiming down at her. Not having any time to attack or dodge, she threw her hands out in front of herself, an invisible shield was created to block the attack. The attack was then drained and the energy used from it was added to her energy pool. Angela felt relieved when she gained more energy.
Trying to win the battle quickly, she focused her energy to her right hand. As she waited, her nails started to grow longer. Once it was done, her nails were about five inches long and were extreamly sharp. They would now be sharp enough to cut through steel, which was a good thing to her. Angela suddenly sensed that the frog was near its death because of her ability from her bloodline. She figured that it was because of its short amount of energy and had only one skill to its use. Taking this as an advantage, Angela jumped as high as she could, above the frog, and as she fell downwards, she brought her nails down on the frog. She was aiming to slice its chest, the main part of its life. Once her attack hit, the frog fell to the sand. It was savoring its breathing, but then, it finally stopped moving completely. She suddenly felt pity for the poor monster, and so, she sang for it. Although, her words came out as screams. She forgot that she had left her comfort item back at her own nation, so much to her dismay, she left it without a word.
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Posted: Mon Jul 04, 2011 1:12 am
Rpc Name: Oliver Mayvine
Nation: Luray
Rank: Trainee
Bloodline applied for: Vampire
What you know about the bloodline: Vampires drink blood (there's some kind of resource system that involves blood, it being needed for vamp skills), they're stronger at night, and have a couple of different abilities, taken from old myths and stories.
Rp Sample: Ollie sighed as the crowd of people approached him. Judging from the torches and pitchforks, they were fully aware that he was a vamp, and intended to exterminate him. He got up from the tree that he was perched under and stared up at the moon, which was high in the sky. "Perfect." Was all he said as he drew his bloodstained dagger from it's sheath and dashed at the crowd. Stopping right in front of the nearest prey, Ollie's dagger streaked through the sky, almost instantly wet with blood. Blood sprayed from a now dead man's throat, covering Ollie in blood. Liking his lips, Oliver said "Delicious." seeding panic in the crowd that had gathered to slay him.
"So who's next?" Oliver asked as he licked his dagger clean. This time the mob realized what they'd got themselves into, turned tail and tried to run. Oliver however, had different plans for them, and dashed around the crowd while leaving a trail of Nightshade. With the black mist cutting off their vision, Oliver was free to engulf them in the Mist of the Night, farther deafening their senses. Now free to just simply pick them off one by one, Oliver would jump back in and out of the mist, slashing throats and stealing the dieing bodies' blood as quickly as he possibly could. Oliver felt super charged when he was finally finished, and took the form of many bats, headed in the direction of the nearest town to continue feeding.
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Posted: Mon Jul 04, 2011 10:48 pm
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Posted: Thu Jul 07, 2011 4:59 pm
Rpc Name:Miserene
Nation:Pronta
Rank:Trainee
Bloodline applied for:Banshee
What you know about the bloodline:Just what is listed in the information. Banshees were long thought to be bringers of death or portents of demise. But these fair women with remarkable eyes have simply been the victim of untrue stereotype that has ostracized them from society and their deepest yearning is for friends and companionship. Well, really their deepest NEED is their comfort object. Without their comfort object they panic and lose their grip on sanity and start shrieking uncontrollably. The object allows them to maintain some levity and speak and act on a more normal level.
While they do not actually portend death, they can see death coming and for that reason they often go to those that are dying, which is why they were in early times related with death. Whenever they are in the presence of a death they must sing to the person and mourn them. Because of their appearance they are often mistaken for paranormals. They are extremely fast and adept at magic but are not particularly strong. All Banshees are pale skinned with light hair and all are at least two hundred years old.
Banshees are not evil as they were once thought to be, but they may not become part of a holy class such as a cleric. The passive ability of all Banshees is to sense when death is near, though the do not announce it. Banshees are also sensitive to the sunlight, while they will not burn like a vampire, it will cause them great discomfort. However, they have the ability to breath underwater. And unless they are sensed, they can move around in absolute silence.
Rp Sample: The air felt heavy and pregnant, humidity laying on Miserene’s pale skin like palpable tension. Her white hair was wet and beginning to stick to the back of her neck and beads of sweat ran down her temples. Her wide dark eyes darted back and forth behind her long bangs, from the old stain on the floor back to the man across the room. His long body was thick with muscle and even at rest he projected an aura of capability and danger to whoever would cross him. And totally disarray.
Miserene tried to focus her eyes anywhere else. Standing she paced back to the window, but the cool night air was doing little to relieve the oppressive curtain of panic that seemed tangled around her. Her thin, dainy fingers ran across the wood as she felt the cords in her throat tighten. Pressing her lips hurriedly together she strode agitatedly back towards the man, pausing ten feet out. His sword was so near him.
But she was a Banshee, she could be sly. Her breath was coming faster as she raised herself up onto her toes like a dancer. Testing her footing and speed, she darted back and forth a few times, nearly a streak of white pale and silvery skin clad in a mere slip of white silk, she tested her plan and darted forward at him. Stopping a breath away from him, she froze. He would be angry. He was angry. He had been mad at her all day. But at least he had spoken to her. How long had it been? His voice was rough and deep but as much iron as it contained, she found it comforting and soothing, but not as much as something else in his possession.
Not that she could tell him about that. She had tried. But the panic, the fear, the absolute need. She couldn’t contain it all. The wailing and shrieking had escaped her in painful hysterics.
His chest was rising and falling slowly, she wished that she could rest her head on his shoulder and let that gentle motion carry her off to peace. Would it? Would she ever know peace? But he had the key to her peace, as close as she would ever know it. His full lips were parted slightly in sleep and now that his eyes were closed she could see how long and thick his eyelashes were. Such sensual details on pure masculinity. Miserene leaned closer, studying him. Her soft pale pouting lips were close enough to feel his breath on them. Her nose brushed his and she froze. But he did not stir.
With trembling hands, she reached up. Her body shivering with need and anxiety. He would deny her, he had been denying her all day. But she had to have it.
In a flash of absolute speed and stealth she whipped his helmet off of his head and dashed silently back across the room with it. Her heart swelled with joy and relief. The feel of it in her hands, its lovely weight and intricate designs. Her fingers ran over it as she curled into a ball in the far corner, her back to the room as she curled protectively around her prize. She had thought for sure that she would die when the latch on her necklace broke dropping the chain and pendant into the river. The pendant. Her heart ached at the mere memory. She had nearly drowned herself going after it. Shrieking and splashing, she couldn’t have survived without her Banshee’s ability to breathe underwater.Even still, her panic and strain were quickly taking a toll on her heart.
The pendant was lost, forever. Just as that realization was sinking in and her desperation caused her to wail so hard that the waters above her frothed, something bumped into her head. Reaching out in a blind hope that it was the pendant though she immediately knew that it was far too large and heavy, she grasped the rough metal helm.
As soon as her fingers ran over the surface, a bit of her misery abated. Her eyes turned to it as her white hair fanned out in the swift water. The armor was dinged and dirty, but its wear was a sign of its purpose. Its weight was comforting solid, she wouldn’t merely lose track of this. Much better than a pendant. Yes, and it needed love. She would clean it and polish it until it shone. Her fingers traced the designs with love. Slowly she surfaced, a faint smile spreading over her lips as she hugged the helm to her chest.
Then he had come. First he was demanding and then he just yanked it away from her. Simply took it before she could explain that it was hers. That she HAD to have it. The shrieking had started again after that. If he would have just given her the helmet she could have explained. Just let her touch it. But he strode away, ignoring her pain and misery. Wailing, she had followed him in pathetic pleading. Her speed and agility were no match for his well trained strength.
But eventually she had managed to stop wailing and followed him, sniffling in total agony. But he had given up his protesting and simply ignored her, his own way of allowing her to follow along. A few times she had reached out to touch the helmet but he had grabbed her roughly by the wrist and glared at her meanly. Her shrieks were met with a firm pointing finger at her face and that granite face. Didn’t he know what misery he was putting her through?
But now, NOW, she had it. Holding it, touching it. Her heart was swollen in her chest with joy and pride. She had retrieved her object from the terrible man. Terribly handsome man. Turning now, she wanted another look at that strong yet sensual face. She wondered if his hair was out of his face and imagined brushing it back off of his forehead.
But those thoughts stopped as her gaze found the chair that he had been reclined in. It was empty.
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Posted: Thu Jul 07, 2011 5:48 pm
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Posted: Thu Jul 07, 2011 9:30 pm
that was beautiful crying
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